The Reapers Game



Slipping closer to the end
With every breath I take
Coming apart at the seems
The reaper is hard to shake

I have withered and grown worn
Time is taking it's toll
Rapidly fading into nothing
My childhood has been stole

I thought I was eternal
I thought I'd never die
I was told I could be anything
If I would only try

The future has become the present
I'm no longer in my prime
I have never achieved my dreams
And I'm running out of time

How can I be happy?
When I'm inevitably going to cease
I see the vultures start to gather
Waiting for they're feast

I will become nothing more
Than an infested mound
Making a new home
In the cold wet ground

I feel deaths boney hand on my shoulder
Every time I quiver in pain
I know that I will not win
When I play the reapers game

By LukeCoomer ©



  • Author: LukeCoomer (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 21st, 2018 21:47
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views:
  • User favorite of this poem: poetboy5454.


  • poetboy5454

    A well written piece on a stark reality!

    • LukeCoomer

      Thanks so much!

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